


A Flock Unattended

by Julius_Pepperwood_No_Zombies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character of Faith, Drabble, Gen, M/M, Spiritual, with a hopeful ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julius_Pepperwood_No_Zombies/pseuds/Julius_Pepperwood_No_Zombies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel tries to bring the lamb most dear to him into the fold if for no other reason than to impart what comfort it can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Flock Unattended

**Author's Note:**

> For the record i'm not spiritual or religious, so I apologize if this offended anyone who is. It is Supernatural after all and I literally cannot determine it's offensiveness, ha ha... ha. I tried at least to make it not so, anyway. Thanks for reading!

They've had a _terrible_ day, one of the worst, Castiel thinks as he walks into the dingy hotel room, and Dean slams the door behind him. Innocent bodies, poached of life, had lain slain and mutilated at their feet, just hours ago. They had come so, _so_ close to rescuing them, but in the end their efforts had proven devastatingly futile. To their own party it had seemed unjustifiably cruel, cold-blooded, sadistic even, unnecessary, but to the vampires who had drained them it seemed necessity only; survival, _nature_.

"How can you work for a God that let's something like that happen?! How can you even believe in one?" Dean shouts, turning to Castiel with eyes sparkling from unshed tears. They've had this conversation before, many times in fact, but Dean has never sounded so desperate for an answer, so broken by the injustice of it all. Castiel considers his query for a long time before answering.

"There are many who say God is in everything. While I know this to be true, I confess I am very seldom able to render his likeness in the world," he fixes Dean with sad eyes. "My God is merciful, perfection incarnate, all-knowing, yet humanity is barbaric, hateful, and distrustful, among other things. Even nature itself is cruel in it's simplicity; a struggle just to survive. None of this reflects my Lord in any commendable way, and yet we are forged in his image." He looks to Dean now, taking in the shock, the resignation to the hopelessness of a totally random universe written in his friend's meritorious features. Castiel's own expression is pained to see it.

"When I think such hopeless thoughts, I look to the sky. In it's beauty, I can see God clearly. The sky, ever changing, is only beautiful, it has the infinite potential my Lord himself possesses. The sun and rain give life, the pale blue, or white, or gray give comfort, the rich colors of the sun setting or rising give happiness, peace. It is a thing of such beauty and prosperity as only my God could formulate." his voice is sincere and searching, as much wanting to console Dean as remind himself, and he shows his partner a small, forbearing smile. The hunter regards him for a long time, silent, but his thoughts obviously clatter about in his mind.

"Let's get some sleep." he finally decides, moving toward the bed and keeping his eyes averted.

Castiel wants to soothe him further, more successfully, with his words, but he isn't sure how. In the end, he just gets in to bed with him and pulls him close; enveloping his body with his own as much as he can. It makes him both unreasonably happy and heart-wrenchingly sad that Dean actually lets him.

*****************************************************************************

Castiel doesn't think his conversation does much to help Dean's faith, if anything he figures it must have distressed it. It makes him unable to keep from trying again, as they roll down the road in Indiana.

"I also see God in moments," he opens, hoping Dean will take him up on it. The man doesn't say anything for a time, just looks ahead at the road, then at Sam asleep in the backseat.

"What are you saying, Cas?" Dean asks, without looking at him.

"I mean, I also see God in certain moments. No, they don't go on forever, but neither does my wisdom in His plans."

"What do you mean? What moments?"

"I see Him when you smile, when I reach with outstretched hands to touch the face of God as you stir from sleep, peaceful and comfortable and happy. I see Him in your success, and in your pride, and even in your sorrow."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

To this day Dean has never said anything about his sermon, didn't even turn to regard him after its delivery, but Castiel can feel his thoughts.

Very occasionally, if they've had a good day, such as that is for them, Dean will look to the sky with soft eyes and squeeze Castiel's hand.

Even better, the angel thinks, is when Dean will fix him with the same look, their hands entwined, and he is barely able to keep his heart from bursting when his noble hunter squeezes his hand in the same way. Castiel's own faith is frequently tested, chipped away at, but he has only to remind himself, He did give them each other.


End file.
